The Problems With Immortality
by God Of Cake
Summary: Well,' Harry thought to himself as he raised a slender eyebrow 'I guess now I know why the cabbie laughed at me when I told him my name.' True, many dimensions and universes were intertwined together in some form, be it books, movies, bedtime stories, games or ancient hieroglyphic tales displayed on egyptian walls. It was still shocking to see your own name plastered on the cover.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfiction ever, constructive criticism is welcome. I have no beta and I dearly apologize for any and all grammatical error and misspellings. Yes, this story contains a relatively immortal dimension traveling MOD Harry. I realize this is overused, but it's my personal favorite crossover type. All comments are appreciated, and all input is great! There is currently no pairings, (Other then SP canon) but I am willing to make it het or slash if people want me to.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Supernatural', 'Harry Potter', or any of the other mentioned series. Nor am I making cash out of this.**

Harry really shouldn't have been so surprised when he saw the books. _'Well,'_Harry thought to himself as he raised a slender eyebrow 'I guess now I know why the cabbie laughed at me when I told him my name.' True, many dimensions and universes were intertwined together in some form, be it books, movies, bedtime stories, games or ancient hieroglyphics tales displayed on egyptian walls. It was still shocking to see your own name plastered on the cover.

He had passed through dozens of worlds, some nearly identical to his own while others completely different. Some had wizards like himself, there were also the technology based worlds where magic was a thing of myth. The wizard had felt more joy then he would admit using his most flashy spells for the sole purpose of watching the lab coated humans scramble around and stutter, trying to find logical explanations for their new animal appendages when there were none. They ended up blaming it on mass hallucination.

One dimension he remembered fondly consisted of Disney worlds. That in itself was something that made the green eyed man cackle in glee. When he was younger, the Duslyes banned anything with magic. Heaven forbid Dudley become infatuated by freakishness by watching bloody Peter Pan!

Harry was just enjoying himself getting a suntan in Agrabah when some black cloaked freak appeared through some ominous looking hole and started questioning him. "You have disrupted the balance," The distorted voice breathed out.

"What?" was the intelligent answer Harry gave. Was this dude a jeti? He had no visible lightsaber though. Did he hide it?"

What are you? You clearly have a heart, you walk in the light but a great darkness surrounds you. I do not believe you to be human." What a douche, Harry thought in annoyance. Comes out of some hole from merlin knows where, interrogates him then bloody accuses him of not being human? Then Harry remembered he was in a disney movie. And what did they do in musicals? Why they sang of course. What was a disney movie without random spontaneous singing? Harry blamed his father's side and the twins for what he did next. He turned his near predatory smile to the hooded figure and stared directly into where( he assumed) their eyes were then lazily pointed his finger at the man. And spoke one word.

_"Cantare"_ 'The twins were quite ingenious when it came to spellcraft.' Harry mused to himself. Harry left that world with a skip to his step and a mortified organization member with a dry throat behind.

"Other worlds had a more biblical side. The first encounter he had with angels and demons was one in the same. It had not been long after Harry first started exploring his 'world hopping' powers, and He had yet to perfect his landing. Or look like anything other than a platypus attempting to perform the nutcracker after the worst hangover brought him crashing down on a cozy bookstore in Soho, not unlike the one he was currently in now.

The wizard was surprised at how soft the landing was. That was until he realized the tangle of limbs and groans emanating from below him and a cracked pair of sunglasses lying discarded on the floor. Hours of long explanations, alcohol and high caffeinated tea, Harry had found that his unintentional fall breakers were none other than a demon and an angel. The angel took pity on His cluelessness and let Harry search his worthy book collection. This reality's god, Gods really, considering all the different dimensions was shocking. Was there one larger god that ruled over all the universes?

That was when he learnt one of the most valuable lessons. _"Knowledge is power,"_ Harry muttered to himself as he brushed a strand of dark hair away from his eyes. Research proved to be essential for his 'saving people thing'. Nearly getting turned into a sparkling monstrosity for eternity also helped make that point stick. From then on, whenever he travelled between he made sure to study the inhabitants of the worlds. Surprisingly language seemed to be relatively consistent throughout the multiverse. He had tweaked his glasses to read nearly all earth based tongues, and some supernatural ones. The glasses also had a nifty subtitle option for when people were talking. This however had not helped him when he was in space.

That was an absolutely dreadful experience. He died over and over before some bloke in a box helped him. They ended up in a argument about Sherlock Holmes, Harry saying he had honestly met him with the presumed alien disbelieving him.

Since he was the Master Of Death he could not die. He had figured this out when he was first indisposed of. He did not die a hero, a martyr sacrificing themselves to the greater good, he died getting plowed over by a car in muggle London.

_'He remembered the darkness, the need to live, the need to stay alive, he remembered the smell of cleaning components and the white room. He remembered the paramedics masked faces looking down. He remembered one, middle aged, obern crinkled eyed, slightly turned up nose and sandy blond hair. He remembered the man muttering about 'I'd take a miracle' and 'poor kid' as he pulled off his bloodstained gloves. He remembered the flat sound the heart moniter made. He remembered the pain. A dull heat in his forehead. Then absolute blinding pain. He was sure he was on fire. He was sure he was in hell. The bones in his body seemingly cracking, and reforming themselves, flesh degrading and re-knitting itself as something stronger. He remembered the muffled screams he heard. He didn't care, all he could think about was the white hot pain. And then Harry, throat raw, finally felt the darkness claim him._

_Harry had woken feeling great. He yawned and stretched his arms, behind his neck and took a deep breath. "Hermione I just had the weirdest dream," Harry's voice was clear, though a sleepy ring could clearly be heard in it. "Hermione?" When he heard no response Harry opened his eyes and was shocked at the view that assaulted him._

_ There was rubble and debris everywhere. Then all at once the previous nights memories slammed back. The whole hospital and what he estimated was three city blocks in all directions were burned and collapsed. The smell of ash, metal, and burnt plastic was extremely strong. Harry's nose scrunched up at the foul fumes. He gathered himself up and wearily stood to his feet. There was a sharp blast of pain directly on his temple. He reflexively cupped the spot with his hands. Had he been hit by excess ruble?_

_Harry hobbled over to a shard of glass and peered into it. His breath drew in a short breath as he saw his forehead. There was not a gash or inflammation, what was there was the symbol of death. A circle inside a triangle with a line through it. Inked onto his skin as if it was always there. He quickly tore off one of his hospital gown sleeves and wrapped the tattered cloth around his head._

Death was omniscient. No Matter what universe you were in there was always death. Nothing lived forever, _'except possibly myself,_'Harry muttered with a wistful sigh.

The wizard returned his attention back to the books. All seven of them. He gathered on of each into his arms and made his way to the cashier. The plump woman currently working had orange hair that reminded him of the Weasleys and warm amber eyes . She raised her dainty eyebrows at the collection he was purchasing. "All of those kid?" Oh how he hated being called that, he was not that short! Cursed eternal youthfulness.  
"Yes please, mam." The master of death replied with a small smile.

"Ooh a Brit!, adorable accent kiddo! And so polite! Bet you get all the ladies, _amiright_?" She wiggled her eyebrows and winked suggestively when she said this. Harry said nothing.

"Though I am surprised you haven't read these yet. Bit of a classic, yeah?" Harry fidgeted under her stare. Then her eyes widened and a knowing look appeared on her face.

"Ahh, you want to catch up before the sixth movie huh? I guess that makes sense. My nice did the same thing." Harry paled and it was only his occlumency skills that stopped him from screaming. There were MOVIES about his life?

"Girl started writing some..." The woman coughed. "Interesting stories about that series. Near gave me a scare when I saw them."

"Oh?" Morbid curiosity caused Harry to push on.

"Yeah, fanfiction. Some genre called slash. Not that I think being gay is wrong, to each his own and all that but… Harry, Lucius, and Snape all doin' it together...In Dumbledore's office, on his desk while all the portraits and Fawkes watch is kinda..." If Harrys face was white before now it was green.

"I see." Harry found that the 'Curiosity killed the cat' rather fit how he was feeling.

"There is some interesting crossover stuff though, especially with the series called 'Supernatural'. Ever heard of it?" She took his silence as a 'no'. "Well, I'm not surprised. It's not as nearly as mainstream as the Potter books but it has a sort of a cult following. I personally love it and suggest you buy them. Besides, there on sale, kiddo, whatcha' say?" Still in a zombie like state from the...Things he had just heard, and not fully processing all that was going nod he duly nodded and payed for the books. "Come back soon honey!"

When he was out of sight The lone wizard shrunk his books and placed them inside his modified ever-expanding pockets and made his way back to his expensive hotel. He hated Mondays.

The next day Harry spent all day speed reading his books. While the majority was right, some facts were completely wrong and the ending was completely off. Ginny? Gack! She was like a sister to him! And Albus Severus Potter? What the fuck was the book him drinking? Basilisk venom? Harry threw the final book at the wall and flopped onto his bed. While sleep was no longer necessary he enjoyed it. He closed his eyes and drifted off into Morpheus's arms.

When Harry got up that morning it felt off. The first thing he noticed was that the books were neatly piled against the wall. The second thing he noticed was the previous day on his calendar was unchecked. The third thing he noticed was the radio, and his emerald orbs widened at the date. "Tuesday?" His voice seemed to have went up an octave or two at the end of the word. He had never liked Groundhog Day.

A/N: something awful happened to my formatting! I am not sure what it was, nor how it came to pass but I have rectified the atrocity that this chapter had become. Thank you to the reviewers for telling me!


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter. Thank you all for the favorites, follows and comments :) I'm amazed and appreciate****every single to the amount or requests,****this story will be het or gen.**

_**Disclaimer: I Do not own 'Supernatural', 'Harry Potter', or anything referenced in this work. Nor am I making a **_**_profit from it._**

It had been twenty days, or one, depending on who you asked, when the last Monday was. Harry wanted to cry. This was not the first time the wizard had been caught up in a time displacement and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. He liked screwing with time-turners after all. The rant Hermione gave him had been almost worth it. However, in the past when something repeated over and over he was always the focal point. He once got put under a curse where had to give one girl her version of a 'perfect' weekend or he'd get transported back to Friday night. Unfortunately, her version of perfect entailed complete enslavement of the human race and universal domination. That was how he learnt not to screw with aliens literally or figuratively. No matter how much free treacle tart they offered him. So when the twentieth bloody Tuesday rolled around, he was ready to dissolve the whole state of Florida out of existence.

The only beneficial thing the loop gave him was time. In which he grudgingly read the Supernatural books. It did not improve his mood. He had to give it to Carver Edlund though, while his writing was utter rubbish, the facts were nearly all correct. Was he some sort of retired paranormal investigator? He had also gotten around to googling fanfiction. He was awed, disgusted, pleased, and mortified all at once. That night he wished he could forget that Tuesday.

The only human interaction Harry had had was with the bookstore lady, the hotel check in block.. He highly doubted some mystical force was trying to push them together. So why, why was he looping? What did he do to deser- And then it hit him. Or more like seduced him, got him drunk, stole his money and then wrote 'Twat' on his cheek before driving away in his car while laughing the day before an important job interview. .He had not done anything, therefore the spell was not focused on him but on someone else. Satisfied with himself, Harry decided to enjoy the rest of the Tuesday and throw a large party. At a cemetery. With zombies. Necromancy was not something he used often, but when he needed someone to talk to it was always his first option.

"So, how's the afterlife treating you?"

"**Blaarg**" Was the response the rotting cadaver gave. It's jaw was missing, and the eye sockets seemed to ooze a yellow puss. A sole maggot riggled out of the nose hole and plopped to the ground. What Harry heard was, "Well, Sir, I have had the luck to be grassed with an eternal heaven of peace and tranquility. I only one day wish everyone can feel as how I now feel. The only thing missing is Darla. Alas! She had to make the deal. Though I cannot find it in my heart to blame her. If not for her sacrifice, my daughter would not have even had the short ten years of life that she did."

Harry cocked his head to the side and tapped his chin. "A deal eh? One with demons I presume?" In response a section of leathery skin flaked to the ground looking remarkably like fish food. "Don't worry, Frank. I can call you Frank right? I'll let you be with Darla I can't make the connection last long, but I can hold it till tomorrow." Harry wondered if souls would remember the loops.

"**Urgkh" **The inuman sound brought chills to the spines to anyone that heard it but to Harry, it only left him with a smile. He snapped his fingers and a spirit of a woman materialized out of the air. He left the graveyard in silence and quietly made his way to his hotel room. Tuesdays weren't so bad after all.

On the fortieth Tuesday he was done. In a rage that would have made the archangels and the knights of hell hold each other in comfort, he destroyed Florida. By mass-resurrecting dinosaurs and stampeding them across the land. The next day the Master of Death felt shame for that. But strangely not regret. He now knew he had a immortal dino army at his beck and call.

On the fifty second day Harry had completed his research. He had a complete list of all the possible monsters, ghosts, gods, demons or any other supernatural entity that could possibly be causing this mess. On the sixty eighth day he had killed all of them at least twice except for the so called 'Trickster'. The only area with record supernatural activity left was a dinky tourist attraction called the 'Mystery Spot'. He decided to go investigate. He snapped his fingers and went invisible. He so dearly loved some of the perks of being the Master Of Death.

On the seventy ninth day he was positive that the moose-like brat was also going through the loops and his brother's, Deans, death was where they were centered on. Those guys were some super roleplayers to dress and act out the Winchesters parts so well. Not that he would blame them, he had once gotten drunk and pretended to be some angel. Fun times...

He was extremely grateful for the analysis magic he had learnt. Hermione would never let him hear the end of it if she knew that though. His magic told him that the one causing the past seventy nine days of terror in his life was the old dude in the cafe. The conditions of the spell was that this 'Dean' would die once every day one hundred times. The magic would bend reality to said conditions. But, as long as he died, it didn't matter how. Powerful as they are, tricksters would never be able to accomplish such a feat of magic. This lead Harry to believe that he was something more. Or on some serious steroids. Nevertheless, the wanker liked jokes right? A sick smile full of righteous vengeance and insanity stretched Harrys face. He'd give the bastard a taste of the legacy of a marauder who has had eons of practice. The Master Of Death let out a cackle, startling a man who was texting, caused him to stumble, and in doing so knocked 'Dean' over into the road where he was mercilessly plowed over by a buss. 'Sam' Muttered something about 'Not again'. Harry winced.

Loki, otherwise known as Gabriel, was eating the same meal like every day smiling to himself. This time, it was strawberry ice cream flavor. He lazily watched Sam try to convince Dean that he was going through the same day over and over. He smiled, wondering when he would crack. He reached over for his coffee,(chocolate milk) but before his hand made contact, the front door exploded inward sending splinters flying in all directions. One of the larger pieces of wood managed to impale itself in Deans head. Someone screamed. '_Well,' _He thought with contemplation. 'That was not supposed to happen.'

That was when Loki realized that he wasn't the one in control anymore.

Sam stared at his brother. Then at the door, then back at Dean, then to the wood piece protruding from his skull. He repeated this process many times wondering what the hell he had did that morning to cause this to happen.

Harry had wondered how he should make his entrance. Should he blast off the roof and demand to know who was causing the loop? Should he incinerate the whole establishment and hope to catch the Trickster inside it? Should he buy the guy(?) a drink and bring it up in daily chatter? Eventually, Harry decided to go through the front door. That seemed mildly boring, so, well, he had sent a burst of raw, untamed, wild magic at it. He was not disappointed.

Harry dusted his cloak off and coughed in his hand. When under it, it completely hid ones presence. Sound, and even physical presence was no exception. People would walk right through him, not noticing a thing off. Luckily, he could still touch things if he wished, but the moment the object made contact with his skin it would vanish. No magic eye or tracing spell of any sort could find whatever it was hiding. This was the true cloak of death. Did Dumbles honestly think Moody could see through something death could not? Foolishness. No, once and only once when one truly became Master of Death did the trinity of items reveal their true power.

The wizard walked towards the counter were the Trickster was seated. And then he blinked. ''_Trickster_' indeed.' When Harry focused his eyes at the time-loop-causing-arsehole what he saw were massive white wings. He had met many angels in the past. The majority being stuck up pricks, but there had been exceptions. But, Harry had never touched ones wings before. When he'd asked, they'd always glare at him. Harry took out a notebook labeled 'Ten Thousand and Fifty Eight Things to do Across Multiverse' and flipped through the pages. That book was one of the treasures he brought everywhere with him. If he met someone he liked, he'd ask them 'if they could do anything, what would it be?' He'd then write it down and do it for them. It's not like hey could survive the hurdle of universe hopping and do it themselves. It was a never-ending scavenger hunt. Finally finding the thing he wanted, he summoned a pen and checked the box beside, 'Feel Angel wings attached to a Angel', then smiled. It was not a nice smile.

Harry liked birds. Hedwig might have been the cause for that. He once tried to learn how to speak bird. It should be noted that that did not end well. About a hundred years since what Harry dubbed 'The Incident' he decided to try again and become a bird animagus. He eventually succeeded, it was very, very usefull to get aerial views that way. So, he knew how protective some species were with their wings. That was why, with all disregard to manners or carefulness, Harry jabbed his finger into the feathered semi-translucent mass. The creature gave a undignified squawk and spun around looking violated and confused. There wings were puffed out defensively. Hedwig got the same look if her intelligence was insulted. Harry giggled. The surprise caused the 'Trickster' to drop their glamour (or transformation? Harry was unsure) which then caused the Sam cosplayer's eyes widen in recognition. Luckily, the majority of the people had fled the cafe by this time so when Harry cast a silent Stupefy at the boy, there was no one to panic.

Then, in a theatrical manner, Harry ripped his cloak off and spoke with a detached voice. "Are you the one who has been causing the time disruption? More importantly," Harry gave a dramatic pause. "does your kind hatch from eggs?" He later realised that it was a pretty bad time to ask that. The angel did nothing for about a full minute and then bent over heaving with laughter. Harry narrowed his eyes. So far, no one had answered him when asked that question.

"Who are you? You come in here, with some unknown sort of power, touch my WINGS which _should not_ be possible in my current form, and then question my origins? No one is supposed to be capable to disrupt this spell barring Archangels or Knights of Hell." Harry now felt confused.

"Disrupt? I was curled up in bed, trying to get over a recent trauma and at a good night's sleep and then BAM!" Harry clapped his hands to accentuate his point. "Its bloody Tuesday again! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to find you? I can't even leave this place! I get as far as possible, but no matter what the next day I'm always back at a coffee stained hotel room!"

"Sorry?" The angel looked unsure of what to do. Gabriel was not dumb and could feel the power radiating of the short male. Yes, he was an Archangel, but he was currently ill equipped for battle especially against an unknown potentially stronger force.

Harry shook his head in dismay. "Can you atleast tell me why you are doing this? Or at least get me out of it?"

Loki grew a sheepish expression. "Well, I would if I could but the spell is locked on Sam and nomatter what I do, it won't stop until one hundred days are over….Oops?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut then gave a wistful sigh.. After a deep breath, he gave the feathered creature a look not unsimilar to a look a parent would get after their three year old threw there bottle on the floor. "Well you're young, you're bound to make some mistakes." He smiled and patted the angles head. "So tell me, why you're re-creating Groundhog Day? Do you really like Bill Murray that much?" Gabriel blinked. Had this man really just call him a fledgling? Was he that big headed or could he possibly have the power to back it up? He might as well comply for now.

-One Apocalyptical Explanation Later-

"So,"Harry swallowed. "You're telling me, that Supernatural is real? Those two aren't cosplayers!?" He really shouldn't have been surprised considering his own circumstances. "That….Fanfiction just go so much more disturbing…" He needed firewhisky. Gabriel just nodded not understanding what he was talking about but willing to wanting to piss the guy off.

"I used to hate prophecies you know? When I was younger, there was one on me. But, as I traveled, I found out that it was quite difficult not to fulfill one, no matter what you do, people will twist it to fit in some inverted warped way. The vessel thing sounds like it really sucks though. Really don't like getting involved in things much anymore. I have found that to much interference only causes confusion on all sides." Harry rubbed his forehead. He had gotten that habit soon after receiving deaths mark. "I have nothing against Sam, but, i'm quite bored. You know what they say right? When in Rome and all. Mind if I help spice up the game?"

Now Gabriel was not a Trickster per say, but he sure as hell had the mindset, and recognised a fellow prankster when he saw one. He grinned.

Sam woke up. Like every other Tuesday, at the same time. The memory of the previous cycle was blurred. He found this odd but pushed it back in favor of strategizing ways to get Dean through the day.

Right after saving the red bottle from smashing into the ground the cafe windows shattered inwards.

"Hey Sammy, has this ever happened before…?"

"No…"

"That's great then," Dean smirked. "I guess you're out of that loo-" Dean had been impaled. Courtesy of Kermit the frog. Little did sam know, this was to be the first start to a series of strange events.

Eighty Fourth Day

Mr. Rogers ignored Sam's muffled screams as he traced the edge of Deans check. "Won't you be my neighbor?" Dean spat in his face. "Not in this world, bastard!" Mr. Rogers smiled.

"That can be arranged."

Eighty Sixth Day

"BY THE POWER OF GRAYSKULL!"

Ninety Second Day

"I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice, and I say on behalf of the moon I will right wrongs and triumph over evil, and that means you!"

"Seriously Dean? How the hell are you getting killed by a magical girl?" Sam regretted asking that question nearly as much Harry regretted asking the bookstore lady his.

Ninety Fifth Day

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was wracked with nerves as he looked upwards.

"Yes, Dean?" Sam's voice was a steady calm as he dodged a massive glob of white goo.

"How are you not freaking out right now?" There was a monstrous roar from above. Sam sighed and shook his head.

"It's just the Stay Puft Marshmallow… And I think i'm what is called 'desensitized'." Dean stared at same. He opened his mouth to refute but before any words came he was crushed by a foot of marshmallowy goodness. Loki was in heaven. Which was relatively ironic because of his true name and all. He pulled the golden brown treat off the wood plank he was using to roast the gooey delicious and plopped it into his mouth.

Ninety Eighth Day

"EXTERMINATE!"

Ninety Ninth Day

Harry laughed seated next to the angel. Yes, it was probably not good he was enjoying killing a moderately innocent man over and over, but hey, it's not like he'd stay dead. He and his feathered friend had grown quite close after Harry had mentioned chocolate frogs. This was going to be the final Tuesday he was participating in and he was planning something big. "Whats your name?" Caught by surprise the fake Trickster immediately answered with a quick 'Loki' "No your not, mate, I poked your wings, and I have met Loki, bit overly emotional but a great chess opponent. Forced or otherwise." Gabriel was sure he was the only Loki but said nothing, pushing the information into the back of his head for latter. Finally after several moments of silence, a curt "Gabriel" was heard. Harry nodded in acceptance. He was going to enquire about the egg again but before he managed Gabriel spoke.

"You never mentioned your name either." Harry blushed. He had been so caught up he must have overlooked that.

"Did I not? How terribly rude of me. I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Gabriel's eyes went wide and once again, he laughed.

**OMAKE:** Thousand and Fifty Eight Things to do Across Multiverse

Gabriel sighed. Harry had left early to do some wizardy-thing and he was left without a good drinking buddy. He noticed a large leather book, or more accurately a worn tome, on the floor and immediately picked it up. Gabriel had often seen Harry scratching away and reading the thing. It was titled 'Thousand and Fifty Eight Things to do Across Multiverse'. Gabriel snorted at the name but curiosity was driving him mad so he opened it. The first page had three sentences on it and the rest were blank. He blinked. He studied it more closely. It read, 1) Completed, 2) Uncompleted, 3) Alphabetical. feeling unsure, he spoke out loud. " Completed" The empty pages filled with words. The letters seemed to twist onto the page and settle in place. he flipped to a random page and read. _Find Atlantis. Check. Create a Harem. Check. Have a tea party with Queen Elizabeth. Check. Successfully conquer an alien race. Check. Successfully conquer the human race. Check. Tell Sherlock Holmes 'No shit, Sherlock.'Check._ The list went on and Gabriel felt himself entranced by it. Some, were rather disturbing while others fascinating. Some made him question his own belief system,(disregarding the fact he was an angel) where others were horribly dull. The next Tuesday Harry felt unnerved by the odd way Gabriel kept staring at him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Supernatural or any other mentioned works.**

Harry had left after the ninety ninth day, the wizard had wanted 'Loki' and what apparently wasn't a larping, but actual _Sam_ to have their meaningful, deep conversation. -Larping, what a strange word, that-His opinion of the oncoming apocalypse wasn't much, Ragnarok had been _much _ more interesting,(The fact that he was the one to 'encourage' the world serpent to wake might have been part of it,) but, he always had a soft spot for the Revelation. One point being, he for lack of better terms, _was death. _ He found it flattering really. In one world he had visited, he went as far as to conjure a spectral stead for himself. Harry frowned. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened to the stallion, he rather missed it.

One of the perks of being the Pale Rider, was that his magic lasted. When he transmuted something, the object -or person Harry reminded himself, the image of Dumbledore's panicked bar pupiled goat eyes(literally) was one that would forever stay with him- was that the object went to being one thing to simply not. The universe twisted itself, rewriting what was now into what _is_. Using a classic example, the lead was no longer led, it never was led, it was gold. It being anything less then gold, would be wrong. Any attempts at changing the gold back into lead, would be succeeded by failure. It went similarly for conjuring. If Harry wanted it there, it _was _there.

There was a point in time where he had thrown himself into the theory behind it, had millennia pass over him completely unnoticed as he searched for the _reason why. _Harry no longer remembered what he had found. The only remaining memory, if such a scattered broken thing could be called such, was the vague feeling of hopelessness.

Harry lazily turned a page of the book he was reading. Admittedly, he could probably consume the knowledge stored in the pages in an instant, but he had found that prudent, besides, it was nice to actually sit down and read once in a while. He had always preferred the feeling of a book in his hands. The nostalgia of late night library sneaking(for research purposes of course,) with a certain bookish which was something Harry thought he could never get over. Even after all the years that had passed, all the blank forgotten space in between, Harry remembered his Hogwarts days with a vivid clarity. He never wanted to forget them, never wanted to lose what remained of his humanity. He guessed some might call him foolish, but if being foolish meant that he was Harry Potter, regardless of titles, stripped of monikers, and deprived of all epithets, that the thing remaining underneath exposed and bare was still him. Harry moved to turn the page end blinked. There were only publish notes and an index of previously completed titles left.

Harry sighed as he tossed '_Mystery Spot' _in a pile of similely discarded novels. He had noticed his absence in the book, which in itself was curious. He knew that the 'writer prophets' existed, if his own series was anything to go by, but the absence of him being there was something. Was it because he wasn't meant to come there? Would the mysterious Carver Edlund have him in his future...writings? And if so, how much information could he collect? (He wondered if he were in future stories, if his name would be changed. Having the famous 'Harry Potter' in a book series that sold sub par...He could smell the copyright lawsuits) Did 'Carver' -Harry doubted that was his real name, _he _might even be a _her _for all Harry knew- know he was writing what was, and had happened to the winchesters?

Thought's idly returned to darker places as Harry recalled the lovely three months that were going to be so _pleasantly _erased. When he saw that Angel next he was going to shove him back in the egg he came from. He usually could care less for time, but since he legitimately planned on doing things here it would be so terribly annoying for all his work to be erased. He nearly pitted Sam now, feeling a sort of skewed kinship shared only between those trapped in a certain instance of time. He nearly felt bad for the hunter. Nearly. Pitty was one of the emotions that had been somewhat dulled for Harry.

The good news was, he basically had a three month playground that would automatically reset itself.

Harry narrowed his eyes and smiled.

It was not a nice smile.

* * *

Jason McDougall was currently running. It was not odd for Jason to run, being that his career of choice was a robber. It was somewhat crude to call his exploits a 'career', or even him a 'robber' since the largest building he had hit had been a locally run used books store. At best, Jason's 'hobby' was to be a thief. And a petty one at that.

But as he ducked to narrowly avoid talons he wished, oh he wished, he had hit something bigger, if only so that he could be safe in the comfort of jail. Because, anything would be better than the aviary assault he was currently in the middle of. Birds of all different shapes and sizes bombarded the city, hawks and sparrows alike relentless in ther-'_wait, was that a phoenix?' _ He paused briefly, staring at the glowing shape of what could only be described as a fire-bird barrel into a police car causing a monstrous explosion of metal and glass. His efforts were rewarded by the an airborne tailgate ramming itself into his chest.

Wind knocked out of him, Jason fell to the ground in a huff as the snowy owl that had been pecking at his head descended from above him. He scrunched his eyes in thought of the impending mauling, an old lady's handbag slipping from his slack grasp.

* * *

Harry had always _loved _birds. The horror movie had only further expanded his liking of them.

**A/N:** I am so sorry for this late update. In truth, I had originally stopped due to breaking my arm, then while casted and miserable I managed to contract a suckish illness. Only for finals to say 'SURPRISE' by the time I had recovered from both. However now that I am freed of such ailments, I fully intend to update more and in much shorter intervals.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry emerged from his hotel room with fire in his eyes. A broad smile strained his facial features as he slammed the door shut (or at least attempted too because it was one of those doors that close slowly, to make it easier to get luggage in or something. Harry was never quite sure why they had that feature) and pranced down the hallway in a way no person should prance. -That was reserved for elves and fairies- But nonetheless in a cheerful manner he made his way down to the lobby and puffed out his chest. "I would like," He stated in a way that hid nothing of his jubilance. "to check out."

The receptionist's cheeks clouded in a powdered pink as she was bedazzled by the brilliant smile directed at her. "Yes sir," She paused, nervously giving him a once over. "Can I have your name please?"

Harry's smile twitched, he had actually forgotten what name he had checked in under. After the incident with the cabbie and the bookstore had didn't want to use 'Harry Potter', for obvious reasons. Without missing a beat Harry deposited his room key on the desk.

"Room 117, really lovely service you have here. I've visited this area before but never stayed at this particular hotel. I'll be sure to come again, Miss…" Harry's eyes darted down to the receptionist's bosom, where a name tag was attached. "Alicia. Alicia? That's a really nice name, see I once knew an Alicia- my friend's cousin. I met he-" Harry had been using his hands to gesture, when his right reached eye level he stopped violently, as if it captivated him.

"Sir?" Alicia queried in a concerned tone, surprised by the sudden halt of chatter.

"Oh bollocks my boss is going to kill me I- I really have to go," Harry darted out of the building muttering about 'not again' and seemingly praying for his life. Once out the door, Harry apparated, seemingly disappearing into the crowd.

Where in actuality he arrived at an amusement park- Disney World. Harry decided to feel no guilt about the childish fantasy's he was about to live out- it was Wednesday, _Wednesday_! The wait was over and he was finally free, fuck all else he was going to have a great time.


End file.
